Incrimination
by Colorrogue
Summary: Tension between Loki and Sif has always been present, but what happens when he assumes the throne of Asgard?
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: I'm a lowly grad student. I don't own Thor or any of the Norse mythology... obviously. Please don't sue me. Enjoy!**

There was a storm brewing in Asgard and Loki could feel it vibrating under the throne as he sat, victorious and seething with power, watching his newly acquired kingdom. He had heard the whispers in the golden halls that called out for intervention, begging the good queen to look at the subterfuge playing right under her gaze but she was too grief stricken to look. Her eyes were on Odin, praying for his recovery and she stayed by his side allowing Loki to rule in his stead—to her it was simply protocol, and to others it was an abomination. Even citizens with little knowledge of palace turmoil felt within their hearts that something was fundamentally out of place with Loki's ad hoc coronation. He closed his eyes for a moment and let a grimace replace the placid mask that he traditionally wore as he replayed the dismay in his mother's eyes along with the doubts of the people. They called for Thor's return, they called for the firstborn to be placed on the throne instead of his trickster brother for the god of mischief could never rule a kingdom.

Anger rose in his stomach and his grip tightened on the staff he held in his hand, the horned helmet on his head feeling heavier than it had moments ago. They were idiots, they couldn't see what damage Thor's arrogance and recklessness would do to their beloved Asgard. At every feast thrown to honor a new victory for Thor, he sat quietly and watched the people fawn over their battle-lord, showering him with gifts and praise. It was said that courage in battle would guarantee a seat in the halls of Valhalla and if that was true, Thor would no doubt be seated at the head of the great table but Loki would once again be forgotten. His own feats of greatness seemed to pale in comparison to his brother's, even if they were of the same caliber. They were never equal.

Even when they all rode into Jotunheim on that suicide mission, no one was able to withstand Thor's persuasion… which is precisely why Loki himself went along with it in the first place. He had orchestrated a humbling experience for his headstrong brother, highlighting and underlying the over-apparent fact that Thor would make a dangerous king. It only took a few words of encouragement from Thor to convince Sif and her simpleminded warmongering comrades to ride into the cold, desolate wasteland. He snorted ruefully into the silent hall causing the guards at the foot of the throne to jump in surprise before all fell quiet once more. His thoughts turned to Sif and a sneer slowly and maliciously crossed his face. They had been enemies since childhood, when she used to follow Thor and his idiotic friends, tagging along like a lovesick kitten. Everyone knew that Sif longed for Thor and it angered Loki to no end, so he did what any jealous little brother would do: he antagonized Sif. They would get into heated arguments, viciously cruel words spat between the two children like baby vipers until one day Loki snapped. As an adult she stood out among the Asgardians; her hair was darker than the night sky while everyone else's was honey blonde, surely anyone possessing the power of sight could see an obvious difference. However Sif was not born with dark hair—it was Loki who made her different, more like him.

Young Sif had made the grave mistake of cornering Loki during a particularly venomous fight, her golden hair hanging like the most expensive curtain spun by expert craftsman. He was barely paying attention to her words at first, only captivated by the way her blue eyes lit to flames as she yelled at him, her chest heaving with every enraged breath that she took. They were in their awkward years when limbs were longer than they should be and voices cracked but Sif managed to dodge the plague of adolescent clumsiness. He only snapped to attention after she had touched upon his own misfit status and as she reached up to touch his own dark hair, he grabbed her wrist. His eyes narrowed as the potent mixture of anger and embarrassment flowed through his veins while his grip tightened: it was satisfying to see the fear in her eyes and he, for once, possessed the power. Young Loki let her go but in the night he snuck into her rooms and completely sheared the golden hair right off her head. Thor beat the snot out of him the next day and he was forced to request replacement hair from the dark elves, allies of the Asgardians but she never looked the same. After the incident their animosity towards each other was set, although Loki's snide remarks were undermined by something more.

Now as he sat as king of Asgard, she was bound to him by loyalty to their kingdom and he once again felt the power over her. He was not surprised when she and the idiots three came barging into the throne hall with a request to rethink Thor's banishment and it was satisfying to see the shock on all of their faces when Loki sat upon the throne instead of Odin. He had felt her then, her mistrust and dislike culminating into an expression she wore plainly on her face. She was practically forced by Fandral to kneel before him and as they all left in dismay, she stayed behind a few moments longer to convey her anger before she turned on her heel and walked out. Hours later, her face still floated in the back of Loki's mind and he took great pleasure in seeing her bow before him, however forced it was. In fact, he liked that she was forced to acknowledge his power and a thrill went through him.

"Send our dear friend, the lady Sif to me." He spoke clearly into the silence.

It was not long before the light footsteps of the lady warrior echoed through the halls and she stood before him, eyes once more blazing in irritation with her arms crossed.

"You wished to see me, Loki?" Her words were clipped, but tinged with apprehension. She knew he now held the power to do nearly anything, banish her if he really wanted. Sif walked on thin ice, and she knew this but keeping her anger in check was proving to be a battle.

He remained silent atop his throne with his head bowed, the shadow of the great horned crown effectively hiding his face. For a handful of minutes he let her stand there in silence, waiting for him to speak and it made her nervous. Her heart beat faster with every passing second and she began to shift her weight from foot to foot before he raised his head, a sly smile accompanied by the familiar icy gaze.

"Why do you not bow to me, Sif?" His voice was lit with amusement but she knew the danger behind Loki's brand of jokes. She immediately dropped to one knee and lowered her head, swallowing thickly behind the adrenaline. She wished he would just attack her, at least then she could defend herself but Loki was a wait-and-watch opponent. She heard him stand and descend the stairs, her eyes locked on the shining floor of the hall.

"Much better." His voice was low and his breath on the outside of her ear nearly made her shiver. He was a magician, crossing the space between them in no time at all. Sif could feel how close he was to her and she could do nothing but remain kneeling, her muscles protesting at the position. "We have known each other for quite a while." He stated simply. "You may rise, lady warrior."

Hastily she lifted herself from the floor and regained control of her fear. He wouldn't kill her, she was fairly certain of that but she couldn't figure out what he wanted from her. It wasn't to chat about old times or reminisce about childhood memories, for there were no real pleasant ones to remember. Loki stood behind her, too close. Her eyes darted to the guards stationed on either side of the throne but they simply looked away. She was completely on her own with the snake of the house of Odin. He placed one hand on her shoulder and she tensed immediately, earning a low snicker from the fox king.

"What's the matter, dear Sif? A touch from Thor would have you trembling out of need but I have you trembling from something more sinister… or do I?" She could almost feel his smirk and her ire raised once more as she spun to face him. She was completely unarmed and in an incredibly vulnerable position but she slipped back into her old childhood ways. Taking a step towards him, she spat a verbal attack. "You know nothing of my relationship with Thor, you never did! He has led me into many battles and I trust him with my life. I cannot say the same about you!"

The hall rang with her last word and fell deathly silent, Loki and Sif nose to nose. Surprise and fear flashed in the girl's eyes as she took a step away from him, immediately dropping to her knee and bowing her head. "Please forgive me my king, I meant nothing by my words. They were spoken out of haste." She spoke to his boots, eyes downcast and fearing the worst. She would be banished like Thor, exiled for her inability to hold her tongue and for a moment she felt like weeping from frustration. A grin lit Loki's face, a sinister smile for she had played right into his hands. Years of practice had left Loki deft at navigating the waters of Sif's emotions and he knew exactly how to push her buttons—he had known with just a little encouragement that she would overstep her boundaries and he now had her at his complete disposal.

"Your imprudence is disappointing but not surprising. I could have you killed, you know. You are bound by oath to your kingdom and to your king. I am the latter and you have shown me a great deal of disrespect." Mock hurt shone through his words but the smirk never left his face. "It would not be a warrior's death you would receive, but a traitor's execution. Such a pity after all that hard work you put in…" He trailed off and watched her back heave with ragged breaths. He would get what he wanted today, after waiting for so long. "Stand, Sif."

She stood without a word, her eyes still locked onto the reflective gold of the floor with her heart nearly beating out of her chest.

"For your disrespect, I demand a kiss." On queue, her head snapped up and she locked eyes with the man she had been at war with since they were toddlers. She searched his face for any signs of chicanery, a sign that he was joking with her as he often did. It wasn't unreasonable for her to presume trickery, he was a mischief maker after all but she found none of his traditional giveaways apparent. She blinked rapidly and before she could step away to clear her mind, he reached out and placed a hand on her cheek. It was gentle, much more so than she had expected—after all the years of fights and insults, she assumed he would be rough and seeking humiliation. All she felt was the chilled weight cupping her jaw line and the intensity of his eyes on her. Whether it was the fear or something else that made her lightheaded was a moot point as the space between them closed, from there it was a mutual meeting of lips. Slowly they touched, both gingerly pressing lips together in a trial kiss but as Sif moved to pull away, Loki's hand moved behind her head and it was deepened. Although in actuality it just a moment, time seemed to stop for them and when they pulled away there was a breathlessness between them. Loki was the first to break the spell, stepping away and nodding. "Your debt has been paid."

She too nodded and without another thought she numbly exited the throne hall, leaving Loki standing in the middle to contemplate what had happened. He had intended to make her uncomfortable with his request, just a little fun to show her what its like to be completely helpless… but his plan hadn't panned out like he thought it would. Instead he was left with the memory of soft lips pressed against his and the feeling of her warmth to complement his cold. He took a deep breath and strode back to the throne, sliding into it with a genuine smile of satisfaction. He found a new favorite game.

**A/N: So there you have it! I wove in some comicverse to the movieverse and I know its not entirely accurate, but I hope _someone _enjoys it. I saw the movie twice and both times, this pairing stood out so strongly to me. I love Loki, I think he's one of the strongest characters in the movie and entirely overlooked by a lot of people. This is supposed to be a one-shot, but we'll see what happens.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Marvel or Norse Mythology ;]**

Under the star plastered sky the kingdom of Asgard fell into a fitful sleep, the fate of its peace and security left in the hands of a trickster and a magician… with Odin deep in the Odin-sleep, no one knew for sure what to make of Loki's coronation. Whispers of war with the Ice Giants once more whet the lips of warriors and civilians alike, instability leaking through the population like poisoned wine. Loki knew what they spoke about him under the cover of darkness, for no one dared to confront him in the light of day. Some bemoaned Thor's exile, some questioned the nature of Odin All-Father's illness and connections began to form in the minds of many—Loki the villain, the usurper. While all other Asgardians slept, these whispers kept Loki awake into the wee hours of the morning and he spent many of his nights roaming the palace halls. His footsteps echoed through the vaulted ceilings, slow and methodical as he sought desperately to calm his mind. His plans needed to be set in motion quickly before plots to overthrow him grew any roots; he needed to prove to his kingdom that he had their best interests at heart.

When he reached the top floor of the palace he took a long breath, making his way over to the balcony before leaning against the balustrade wearily. The galaxies and stars swirled above him as he fought to push his frustrations down, the sinking feeling of betrayal threatening to well up in his stomach. Popularity was never at the forefront of Loki's mind considering he took a backseat to Thor's universal acceptance anyway… however now he found himself in an odd predicament. He was bound to the opinions of his court in order to retain his position as king. There had never been a royal assassination in the kingdom of Asgard but he didn't put it past some of his advisers, especially the ones who had been closest to Thor. It was difficult to keep up the visage of mourning brother and reluctant ruler when all of the plans he had so precariously perched on one another threatened to topple over at any moment. No one was making this easy for him, least of all not Sif and Hogun with their constant plotting and mistrust: he had heard them piece together the truth, but they were balanced out by the tentative loyalty of Volstagg and Fandral. His thoughts turned to Sif and he found himself unbearably cloistered in his tunic and armor.

When he wasn't mulling over the intricacies of his plans or the forked-tongues of his court, his thoughts were locked squarely on Sif even when he tried his best to ignore them. She invaded his sleep, she haunted his steps and, perhaps more dangerously, she threw him off his game with her soft lips and cruel words. Loki gripped the marble railing until his knuckles went white, laughing bitterly to himself in the emptiness of the chamber. His rational mind spoke through the haze, assuring him that what he felt was a mere childhood crush and that it would pass. He had much more important matters to attend to anyway, she was a distraction that deserved none of his time. But even as his logic tried to quell the fire in his chest, memories of that lingering kiss flooded back and rendered all logic absolutely useless. It had only been a few days since their last run in but he constantly looked for her, even spying on her when he hadn't seen her in the dining hall—he wrote it off as gathering information, but in reality he just took pleasure in watching the way she moved. Loki watched her practice in the training ring more than once and he was forced to tear himself away to prevent new rumors from sprouting about his preoccupation with the lady warrior. He grit his teeth and groaned, grabbing the large horned helmet from his head and tossing it carelessly behind him.

What he didn't expect to hear was a surprised yelp as the helmet crashed to the marble floor.

Loki spun around, his heart nearly leaping from his chest in surprise; he was supposed to be alone up here, he had never seen anyone else in this part of the palace before. Besides, it was far too late for anyone else to be awake. Adrenaline pumped through his veins as he quickly surrounded the intruder with copies of himself, a favorite tactic of his used to confuse and unhinge opponents. He had always been decent in battle with weapons but his strengths lied with manipulation and magic. There, much to his surprise and chagrin stood a very nervous Sif ready to defend herself, reaching for a small dagger she kept on her belt. Loki and his clones simply stood for a few heartbeats and watched her straighten up, rearranging her tunic and calming herself.

"Honestly Loki, you've been using that move for years. Don't you think its time you learned a new trick?" Her words were supposed to be delivered with bravado and strength, but instead they sounded skittish and hollow even to her own ears. Sif had never wished for invisibility or the power to teleport before, but she prayed for it wholeheartedly as Loki's clones dissipated and he stood before her. Insomnia had gripped her, choked the sleep from her and refused to give it back. She had taken up the habit of wandering around at night, visiting the bi-frost and keeping Heimdall company until the first light of day crept over the golden profile of Asgard. Sif was simply looking for a new place to occupy her time until she could tire herself out enough to sleep—it was certainly taking a toll on her and Loki could see it in her eyes. Dark circles sunk under her eyes and her skin had lost the brightness that captivated him. She was vulnerable now and they both knew it. It was a stalemate as they studied one another in silence, treading on eggshells in their minds. Sif was almost positive he would use her vulnerability to his advantage, as he always did. He was too good at seeing through people and she felt naked to his gaze, helpless against the talent he had cultivated. Instead of closing the ground between them as was custom of their history, he backed away and resumed his position by the banister, leaning heavily against its supportive edge.

For a while she just watched him, his body language conveying the same overwhelming weariness that she felt. He could have easily harassed her, demeaned her, sent her away or demanded explanations for her treasonous words (Sif knew he was watching, part of her allowed his voyeurism while the other part was disgusted for feeling a tingle while he watched). His apathy towards her was disconcerting, her empathy towards him was even more so. Loki looked so much like the boy he used to be as he lowered his head. His lips had burned into hers in the throne room, a strange mixture of molten warmth and icy exterior left her with an unsettling new feeling she couldn't explain away. It was that very feeling that contributed to her insomnia, along with the unrest in the kingdom, the threat of war and Thor's exile. With light steps she crossed the room and settled herself beside the interim king, casting her eyes out across the gleaming gold expanse of the kingdom. She could feel Loki turn to look at her but her eyes remained on the horizon.

"It wasn't my intention to intrude, Loki." She spoke softly, fingertips running idly along the smooth marble of the balustrade. "I was just looking for somewhere to be alone. I assume you sought the same?"

He snorted and shifted to face her, elbow leaning against the barrier. "Obviously I did a poor job of it, if I managed to run into you here." He had planned on her fleeing the room the moment she saw him, this strange boldness shook him. He stared at her, studying the curves and lines of her face while the silence mounted. Tension grew between them and after many long minutes, he sneered. "While we're being candid, can I ask why you deem it fitting to deliberately plot behind my back?" She stiffened, but never drew her eyes from the skyline. "You are content to commit treason, to bring Thor back although I clearly forbade it. Do you not think there are reasons as to why my father had him banished? You were there on Jotunheim, you were nearly killed more than once by my brother's shortsightedness." He leaned in further as he spoke, anger creeping into his voice but still she refused to look at him. "He has displayed few traits that led my father to believe he would be a good king, that's why the coronation was halted. Yet you still blindly remain loyal to him!" His voice rose steadily as he spoke. Loki reached out to encircle one of her wrists in his hand and in that moment, they were not warrior and king but simply two individuals. He felt her pulse flutter under his fingers and he absentmindedly stroked the soft skin of her arm, their breathing synchronized. Suddenly the anger he had felt was gone, replaced instead by a melancholy which he couldn't trace. "Why, Sif? Why do you choose to remain ignorant?" It was then that she turned her eyes to meet his and their gazes locked, his blue eyes pleading with hers in a moment of blissful vulnerability.

He had cracked himself open for her on that veranda, it was almost too good to be true. The dark haired woman very nearly believed him to be tricking her once more, trying to gain her trust and stop her from retrieving Thor. She searched his face, his fingers still maddeningly gentle on her wrist. "You mistake faith for ignorance." Was her simple reply, allowing him continued exploration with his touch, despite the slight pang of guilt for her approval of such liberties. "He is rough still, a king in the making. You are quick to see his flaws Loki… if you gave him a chance, you would see his potential."

He dropped her wrist as if her flesh had turned to lava, burning him with her doe-eyed faith in his asinine brother; his face hardened into a sneer, anger born anew in his heart. "You would call it faith." He spat the word out like a foul taste, his breath quickening. "You only see the good in him, and that is where you're making your greatest mistake, Sif!" He tore away from her and stormed under the protection of the awning, leaving her bathed in the moonlight on the balcony. "Your faith is misplaced!" He continued to rant, snarling as his temper grew exponentially. "You don't understand him the way I do, no one does! And yet they continue to allow him these freedoms with only a slap on the wrist as punishment? I can tell you that my father did not intent a camping trip to Earth for nearly plunging us into war with the Frost Giants!" When he turned around, Sif had closed the distance between them and placed one hand on his shoulder.

"Calm yourself, Loki." She began to reason with him. "Your father knew that Thor was just trying to…" In one motion Loki's hand flew over her mouth and effectively cut her sentence off—with wide, shocked eyes she watched him lean in close. His chest heaved with the effort of restraining himself. Whether it was talk of Thor or being in such close proximity of Sif, his willpower was wearing thin and the magic crackled audibly around them.

"What was he _just_ trying to do? Was he _just _trying to get us all killed by dishonoring a diplomatic truce? Was he _just_ trying to prove to father that he was a better king? Hmm?" His voice was a low hiss, their noses practically touching while Loki's hand tightened over her mouth. "You are a warrior, Sif. Don't pretend to be a strategist or a diplomat. You make the same mistakes Thor did by assuming you know the context in which every action is performed." He released her mouth but remained close, his eyes narrowing while he spoke. The air was electric between them and they were both caught in the pull of the unnamed tension that had been born. There was compassion in Sif's eyes as she reached up to trace his high cheekbones and she felt him stiffen under her hand—something guided her and she felt no inclination to stop. For the second time in a week, she pressed her lips to his and let her hands slide behind his neck. They were locked in an embrace and Loki felt himself surrender to the rush of excitement and delusion that accompanied her touch: the questions ran amok through his brain but he couldn't be bothered. Slowly he let his hands find the narrow curve of her waist and he let them stay there, feeling with wonder how her rib cage heaved with every breath. When he finally pulled away, their lips were swollen and pupils dilated.

He felt very much like a young boy as they both straightened their clothes and gathered their wits, so many questions on the tip of his tongue. His power as king had been left by the wayside and he watched her retreat to the door with a slight longing to follow but he dared not to speak. It was Sif who turned and smiled softly at him. "Goodnight, my king. I hope you find some rest tonight." With that, she was gone. There would be no sleep for Loki Odin-Son tonight.

**A/N- Woah, lots of reviews for this pairing! Thank you so much for all the reviews, it was definitely motivation to keep the story going. Loki and Sif are both fun to write so I'll probably continue this for at least one more chapter. I'm glad I wasn't the only one who found Loki amazingly alluring. Keep the reviews coming! :D**


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